Older woman syndrome has always been a problem with me, now that I am older I have not problem pulling them, but when I was younger it was harder to get my fantasies right. There was one in particular, an artist and it her I have to thank for making sure her friends knew all about my huge penis.
At the time I may have been young and dumb but I had the right equipment, and was a bit bright lights and big city struck when I met Veronique. She struck a chord in me immediately and I inveigled myself into this artist bevy of followers.
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One afternoon we all got drunk and stoned at her place after traipsing behind her to one of her arb art exhibits. We were all drinking red wine by the jug-full and smoking some great weed I had got my hands on.
As soon as we were all half pissed and stoned, people started leaving and eventually I found myself alone with my fantasy woman. By then she had lost her “older woman” inhibitions and allowed me to approach her in a sexual way, she was forbidden, being of color and me being white in an apartheid South Africa.
She ran a bath, lit candles and we got into the deep warm water and started fucking. Just as I was getting going, she topped me, telling me she wanted “artistic” photos, of me with my big beautiful cock, I was unsure, but relented.
Posing me and my big beautiful cock how she wanted was actually a big turn on and I wanted to fuck her hard more than ever by then. When she came back to the bath and we started fucking again, I was so excited a just couldn’t make it last and I shot my load hot and hard into her.
Next day came, and the next and Veronique did not want to see me again, I couldn’t get through to her that I wanted to see her again. She just hid behind her wolf pack and refused to see me. Feeling shunned and lost, I moped around for a few weeks, getting stoned and not doing much else. Then deciding to stop moping I went back to one of my favorite bars. The fact that it was the bar where I met Veronique was beside the point by then.
When I went up to the bar to order a drink, the resident barmaid, Shirley gave me a sly smile; shook her head at me and said “what a pretty cock you’ve got”. Wondering what was going on. She looked left and I followed her eyes, there was a huge blown up photo of me, naked and rock hard cock in close up detail hanging on the wall.
“That bloody bitch”, she sold a blown up pic of our private photo session to the bar owner and it had been hanging there for three weeks, while I was being miserable. No wonder she didn’t want to see me again. After the initial shock, it all worked out really well, I had a bevy of girls to date who only wanted to fuck, and hardly ever had to buy my own drinks again in that bar. I suppose I should thank her
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